


Underclass Heroes

by ToukoTai



Series: Skateboards and Spray Paint [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Street punk AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToukoTai/pseuds/ToukoTai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra’s first run in with the Kids, as Dick had called them and the Brats as Jason did, was...uneventful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underclass Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> this is really free form because I'm not too up & up on my batman canon.

Cassandra likes them, they’re fun and lively. They remind her of the good side of Gotham, buried beneath the smog and gangs and the violence. Dick had pointed them out to her first, one dark but calm night.

“See them?” He’d said nodding to a pair of kids, a boy in a bright red hoodie and a girl in a deep purple hoodie. Cassandra nodded. They were perched on a building over looking a skatepark, late enough in the night, that the two teenagers were the only ones in the park. They were skating rather lazily, in unison around each other in wide arcs. Occasionally one would veer to the ramps or a rail and flip on or over it, and the other would cheer or jeer depending on how well the trick was performed. Dick was watching the two teenagers with a fond smile. “Those are The Kids.” Cassandra had tilted her head to the side, not quite understanding. “Don’t worry.” Dick had said as if he knew what she was thinking. “You’ll figure it out.”

And she did.

Cassandra’s first run in with the Kids, as Dick had called them and the Brats as Jason did, was...uneventful. She lands on a rooftop the two are about to start tagging. They aren’t in the least surprised to see her. The boy doesn’t even turn around.

“Oh hey!” The blond girl was already facing her just as her boots hit the roof. “You’re the new Batgirl!” The girl’s voice was friendly and happy. The boy just flapped a hand in hello, attention on sorting through the cans of spray paint. He picks out cans in red, purple, yellow and black, shakes them and then depending on how full they are, sets them aside. “Was wondering when you’d get around to saying hello.” The girl keeps talking, voice not quite loud but carrying and with an edge of happy excitement. Cassandra likes her immediately. “I see you’re going for a more dark and creepy look. I approve.” The girl says, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pocket against the faint night chill. “Tim.” She calls over her shoulder to the boy. “Come over here and check out the new look.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Tim grumbles, setting a few more paint cans aside. He didn’t make any move to actually come over though. The girl smiles at Cassandra, and Cass can feel herself smiling back. She hasn’t spoken the entire exchange, but the girl didn’t seem to mind holding a one sided conversation.

“I’m Steph by the way.” She sticks out her hand and Cass shakes it, not the least surprised by the confident, strong grip.

Cassandra thinks she’s the only one they’ve told their names to. She’s sure that Bruce and Dick know their names, very sure. But she’s equally as sure they were not told them. She’s certainly never heard Jason refer to them with anything but a surprising amount of expletives.

Stephanie and Timothy. They fit, Cass thinks, the names fit together so well. Even if they do prefer the short versions.

“Our full names together are waaaay too…” Steph had made a tilting wiggle wave gesture with her hand. Trying to convey how much of a burden their full names were.

“Difficult.” Tim had supplied, absentmindedly while he shook a spray paint can, eyeing the expanse of dark brick wall in front of him.

“Yeah, difficult.” Steph agrees, grinning at her. “They don’t really roll off the tongue.” Cassandra disagreed. After that first meeting, she practiced, moving her mouth and her tongue until she could say their full names without a hitch.

Stephanie and Timothy. The Kids. The Brats.

“Riff-Raff,” Timothy had told her laughingly, one night, in reference to themselves, gloved hands holding open a giant black trash bag as Stephanie tossed pieces of garbage from the park landscape into it. Cheering each time she got one in, groaning when she did not. Cassandra indulged herself and crumpling an abandoned newspaper up, copied Stephanie’s motions to toss the makeshift ball into the bag.

It had of course, gone in.

“Ten points!” Timothy grinned at her over the plastic edges as Stephanie clapped her gloved hands excitedly.

Timothy and Stephanie it seemed were usually always involved in some sort of covert clean up project Cassandra found.

“It’s no fun if people _see_ us doing it.” Stephanie said and Timothy nodded along.

“It’s nicer if they think there’s no strings attached. ‘Cause there isn’t.” He added. And they had a wide variety of acts to choose from. Either they were spray painting over gang graffiti, or cleaning litter from parks and school playgrounds or helping out at a neighborhood shelter for the night. She had even caught them planting flowers outside of a halfway house.

But that wasn’t all they did. Besides their humanitarian efforts, they were off racing across the town following other pursuits and a few times they had roped her into games of rooftop tag.

Yes, she understands what Dick was trying to tell her that first time.

It’s very easy to lose sight of things in Gotham. The smog and the fog and the dirt and the grime makes it very easy to lose your way. To start seeing nothing but the dark and the things that hid in it.

And then you had Timothy and Stephanie. Two kids who knew Gotham down to her sewers. Knew everything there probably was to know about her, knew all the dirt and dust and blood. Probably knew where all the bodies were buried, or dumped too. But also knew all the light and the life and the laughter of Gotham. A couple kids, who read the rhythm of the city through the slap of their sneakers on the pavement and the blaring of the sirens in the air. A couple kids who were making small changes, making small differences.

Making _all_ the difference.

The first time she calls them by name, perfectly, completely, Timothy and Stephanie, without tripping or stumbling or stuttering out, the twin full blown smiles are worth all the time and practice.


End file.
